


on your feet

by lovelyleias



Series: Alien Aesthetic [7]
Category: Alien Series, Aliens: Defiance (Comics)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Character Study, I am fascinated by Zula and how her character is already developing after only three issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyleias/pseuds/lovelyleias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When every moment is a battle, weakness is never an option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on your feet

**Author's Note:**

> The accompanying graphic is [here](http://lovelyleias.tumblr.com/post/149225728907/alien-aesthetic-zula-hendricks-are-you-alright).

_“Are you alright, Hendricks?”_

Zula laughs freely at Peterson’s question. He’s even younger than she is; even greener than she is. There’s no mistaking the tremble in his voice, even over the rattle of the dropship and the voices of their squadron. 

“Of course I am, Peterson,” she cuffs him on the shoulder. “Why? Are you nervous? Don’t be.”

Peterson twists in his seat as best he can, pulling awkwardly at the straps holding him onto the bench. “Why not?”

Not good. A squad is only as strong as its soldiers. Zula’s learned a lot in training, but the rule that’s been burned into her is simple: never show weakness.

“Because you’re not alone out there,” Zula gestures to the pulse rifles hanging from both of their belts. “Gun in your hand, crew at your back. Trust me, fear’s not what you’re going to be feeling when you’re down there in a fight.”

“What will I feel?”

“Power.”

—

_“Are you alright, Private?”_

She’s gripping the edge of the hospital bed so hard that her hands are are shaking. _I won’t scream, I will not scream._ But she can’t suppress the groan that tears its way through her gritted teeth as the surgical machine retracts its rods from her flesh. The doctor— whose name she forgot as soon as the machine dug into her back— crosses the room towards her.

“Yes,” Zula hisses finally, forcing herself to release the bed. She rests her forehead on the thin mattress and squeezes her eyes shut.

“You’ll be pleased to know that effects of your treatments are on course with our initial estimations,” the doctor’s voice is crisp and to the point. Clinical, perhaps even unkind. Zula appreciates the lack of pity. “We’ll take a brief recess.”

“What does that mean for my recovery?” Every word she pushes from her lips is a war.

The other woman pauses. “We’re still in the early stages. I won’t give you a timeline until more progress has been made.”

Zula waits until she hears the doctor’s shoes pad out of the room before she opens her eyes. Frankly, she’s disappointed in the doctor for giving into that sugar-coated bullshit.

 _If I can survive this,_ she vows, _I can survive anything._

—

_“Are you alright, Zula?”_

It takes her a moment to blink Davis’s face back into focus. She’s slouching on the floor of the station, indulging in a stolen moment of rest, but she can’t say how long she’s been drifting in her thoughts. Davis looms above her like a storm cloud. He tilts his head and his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. Zula looks away and swallows, beads of sweat rolling from her hairline and down her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she confirms, swiping a hand over her brow. She pulls herself to her feet, grinding her teeth together as pain spreads across her back.

“The Xenomorph is moving closer,” Davis reports solemnly. “We need to get back to the Europa.”

Zula can hear it too, something crashing its way around. The empty space of the station echoes every noise eerily, making it sound like the Xenomorph could be anywhere. She breathes deeply and takes a lurching step forward. She adjusts her shock brace and recovers her balance after a few more paces. _Move, Marine, move._

“Let’s go,” Zula shoulders her rifle and takes the lead.


End file.
